Posted by: anniewilson | December 21, 2008

Visit of the Aliens

I’m not terribly impressed with the new millennium. Since the years began starting with a 2, my mother has died, all of my children have flown the coop and the nit wit who was supposed to be here forever is gone as well. I feel sort of stupid myself…just sitting here waiting for someone to come home.

There are some nice things about living alone…the toilet seat is always down, nobody eats my ice cream and I always have control of the remote control. But sometimes when you find yourself talking to a large dog who is looking at you as though you are absolutely batty, you start to wonder if another human being wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Yesterday morning my house was as neat as a pin…another advantage to living alone. But this morning, I have had to kick my way through messes that I never saw coming. That’s because I had a (say this like the guy who narrated the trailers for old sci-fi B movies in the 50’s)…VISIT FROM THE GRANDCHILDREN.

Yes, 2 little human children who used adorable little toothless smiles and huge hugs to gain entrance to a neat home. They seek sustenance by standing in front of a refrigerator, checking out the possibilities. They appear to like foods high in sugar content the most. Then, they attack all that is, in their eyes, organized. Especially things with lots of colors. Their vision must somehow be attracted to those colorful objects because none are beyond their sight. They distract adult humans by starting a movie like Freaky Friday and just when one of us begins to actually get IN to a Lindsay Lohan Movie…they slip away to look for more colorful objects, more forms of sugar and anything, absolutely ANYTHING that will adhere to their clothing, skin or, God forbid, hair.

In their topsy turvy little world, they make the rules. Eye liner can be lipstick and couches can be trampolines. And they’re just so mesmerizing. They will take you places that you haven’t been in decades, like the floor. You will sit there, on that vaguely familiar floor and color with crayons that you bought as an adult just because you wanted crayons that no little brother or sister could break. And, it’s the BIG box, with the sharpener in back. By the way, be sure to take the Tylenol BEFORE you get down on the floor, if you wait for your back to hurt you might miss it when the kids dump your entire box of pristine crayons in a pile and you’ll never know how Carnation Pink ended up in two pieces. Yet somehow, when you see this atrocity, you look at the toothless smile and remain calm. Then, as though all self control has been surrendered, you sit back on the floor and play cards with the busy little creatures.

They will try to make you one of their own if you let them. I sat still for 10 minutes while purple and green eye shadow was applied to all different areas of my face and neck. The downside was that it scared the pants off of the little boy who ran screaming from my room. It took quite a while to convince the little munchkin that Grandma was not a witch. The larger of the two found great happiness in that incident.

Rooms you cleaned in October and haven’t entered suddenly become alive again with the sound of 40 pound aliens jumping on the beds. But, by the time you hear that sound, you realize that the visitors have simply expanded their territory and sapped it of it’s tidiness. Also, it appears as though they are also quite drawn to pretty things with pumps on top and guest towels. Bathrooms may be small, but the damage done to one during a Grandchild Attack can be massive. I think I was asking for it, I had a bunch of pretty pink towels and washclothes all rolled up and sitting in a basket. That was too much for any of these entities to ignore.

And then, only after EVERY SINGLE ROOM in the house has been touched by the blitzkrieg, they’re gone. As quickly as they came, they’re on their way home. That sudden quiet in the midst of a house sucked dry of every shred of orderliness that once existed is like when the music ended at Woodstock. The silence is deafening, the mess daunting and the happy little high that the kids gave you went home with them. Now what?

Naturally, I just went to bed. Of course that means that at this moment there are paintings on my canvasses, paint itself and numerous other toys and half filled glasses of apple juice, iced tea and milk spread out in my living room. The toilet seat in the hallway bathroom is up, my ice cream is gone and Spiderman 3 is in my DVD player. I must be going now.

The millennium isn’t really so bad after all.


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